


Statues, Stiles, and Pixies

by RerumTechnologies



Series: General Ficlets and Fuckery [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Laura Hale, Derek Hale is a Softie, Laura Hale Lives, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Pixies, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25769146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RerumTechnologies/pseuds/RerumTechnologies
Summary: They started out with three. It was just him, Laura, and Cora. They mourned for a long time, longer than most humans would have. It was almost two years before Laura decided that the Hale Pack needed to grow again. They could survive with three. But they would flourish with more.Hale pack of three rebuilds itself in New York City, ft. Pixies and StilesA pretty indulgant fic for me...
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Laura Hale/Original Male Character(s), Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Series: General Ficlets and Fuckery [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868614
Comments: 8
Kudos: 241





	Statues, Stiles, and Pixies

They started out with three. It was just him, Laura, and Cora. They mourned for a long time, longer than most humans would have. It was almost two years before Laura decided that the Hale Pack needed to grow again. They could survive with three. But they would flourish with more.

So they sought out new packmates. They tried to find people who would fit in with their meagre pack of three, people who might be as grateful to find them as they were. Scott was the only one they really found on purpose. He was Bitten in high school and had moved to New York to work as a vet so Allison could teach. As a three-time medallist in Olympic Archery, she’d had her pick of coaching positions and chose NYU. There was a little drama what with him being married to a hunter. In the end (and with the help of some unveiled threats from both sides) Scott McCall and Allison McCall-Argent joined the pack. It took another full year for Derek to be alone in the same room with Allison. He still doesn’t really trust her. Even though Kate is dead. Even though he killed her himself. Even though he knows Allison is nothing like her.

Jackson was Scott’s fault. If Scott learned to control his temper around Allison and any other member of the male population that might rival his puppy eyes and crooked jaw, they wouldn’t have needed to Bite Jackson. But Jackson brought Lydia, and she more than outweighs his general Jackson-ness.

Isaac was Cora’s fault. Not that anyone can blame her because everyone (even Jackson) loves Isaac. Cora found him one day wandering around the grocery store with a black eye and a limp. Instead of behaving like a sane person, she followed him home. It took weeks for her to speak to him and then another few to get him to open up and ask him if he wanted to be Bitten. Isaac likes to pretend he’s snarky and unflappable, but he ends up ruining the façade by doing something disgustingly nice. Like baking Cora cookies after her favourite show ended or giving Jackson a key to his apartment because apparently Jackson “just needs to be shown he’s needed, Derek”. The kid knitted. Derek. A sweater. And he _wears it._ Like all the time. Because it’s obvious that where Jackson needs to know he’s needed, Isaac needs to know he’s wanted, and that he’s safe. Also, Isaac knits like he bakes, and the sweater is super soft.

Erica was another matter entirely. She wasn’t found. She found them. She said a friend referred her to them. So, they invited her in. Erica was small and defeated despite her bright eyes and sharp words. She had dark circles under her eyes and smelled distinctly of prescription drugs. She had epilepsy. She couldn’t live anymore, she kept losing jobs, she’d never had sex. Her mother didn’t even speak to her anymore because Erica was just too much trouble. She was falling apart, and she wanted out. She wanted help.

They gave it to her. Even though she never said who the friend had been that sent her.

Erica, of course, found Boyd. He was the simplest. They dated, she told him what she was, and after a month Boyd went to Laura to ask if she could Bite him. He never wanted to leave Erica alone again, even on the full moon. He proposed to her after their first run together. They got married in September.

So the Hales did flourish. They’re a pack again. Laura found a boyfriend, Luke. He eventually became a husband. Cora and Isaac _finally_ got together last month. Lydia and Jackson are planning on a winter wedding sometime in the future. Allison is pregnant. Laura says she’ll have kids when she isn’t living with her little brother. So Derek rents the apartment two floors above hers, next door to Isaac and Cora. He announces it on their second anniversary as he’s leaving with the last box. Luke starts wiggling his eyebrows. They’re kissing before Derek makes it out the door, gagging.

They started out with three. Now they are eleven (soon to be twelve with Allison’s baby on the way). Everyone’s happy. They still mourn for lost family, but it’s nowhere near as painful as it had been. Everything is perfect and as mundane as it can be with a pack made up of one human, one banshee, one pregnant hunter, and eight werewolves.

And then Stiles came.

Well, to be fair, the pixies came first.

“Okay,” Scott says as he swats another flying ball of evil away from his face, “I’m getting seriously freaked out. How do we get rid of them?”

Lydia hums on the other side of the room, somehow all of the pixies know to avoid her or die an excruciating death. Smart pixies. Laura’s taking shelter there as well. Traitor. Derek glares at her while defending his face from pixie fists. She tries to bite back a grin. “From what I understand,” Lydia says, looking up from the book she’s reading. “We need either a witch or a spark. There’s a spell that’s essentially pixie repellent.”

Erica jerks her head up from where she’s battling her own army of tiny winged creatures. “A spark?”

“Yes, I think we should find a spark. Witches are notorious for liking favours rather than payments. We _don’t_ want to owe a witch a favour.” Lydia closes the book and puts it back on the shelf. Derek tugs on a pixie that’s attached itself to his left sleeve.

Laura’s still trying not to laugh as Derek, Scott, Erica, and Isaac fight for their lives. Or at least, their personal space. “How did this happen anyway?” She looks at Scott. Scott looks affronted.

“I didn’t do it!”

“It was your fault Derek had a curse on him two years ago because you were flirting with that darach.” Cora points out. She’s behind the kitchen island holding a bottle of bug spray in case any little assholes decide she’s fair game.

“That was an accident! I didn’t know she was a darach. And I wasn’t flirting!” Maybe it hadn’t been flirting to Scott, but he has a look of such earnestness when you talk to him that anyone who doesn’t know him might think it was interest.

“Actually, this is probably my fault,” Isaac says after hitting one pixie with a throw pillow. Laura makes a wounded noise. Derek wonders if it’s because of the throw pillow or the grease stain the pixie leaves on the wall. “I was trying to get Cora something from one of the shops in Times Square and… well. I suppose something is wrong with it.”

“Aww” Cora momentarily forgets her bug spray and stares adoringly at her boyfriend. “You were getting me that necklace we saw last week!”

Isaac blushes and is almost too distracted to avoid getting a face full of pixie. “Yeah.”

“Anyway. I know a spark who’ll help,” Erica throws her hands around her head like a madwoman and makes a mad dash for the door.

Derek, who’s been silent all this time because his batch of pixies had decided to attach themselves to his general person, finally breaks free and stumbles into the hallway after her. They slump against the wall. “How do you know a spark?”

“Old friends,” Erica sighs as the rest of them rush out one at a time. “I used to have a crush on him in high school.” Isaac shuts the door behind him, and there are several thumps as pixies run headlong into it. There’s a crash in the distance.

Laura groaned, “I bet that was Luke’s vase. He’s going to be so upset.”

Erica checks her watch, “If we hurry we can catch him. He goes home around four.”

As they head down the stairs, Isaac asks, “He’s working till four on a Sunday?”

\---

Erica leads them to Bethesda Fountain of all places.

Since the weather is nice, street performers are lining the edges of the courtyard. Dancers, and musicians, and artists all try to get their attention – anyone’s attention. Erica stops however on the least showy of them all, even though he’s covered head to toe in bronze paint.

If Derek had been human he would have had trouble deciding if the bronze figure on the floor is alive, he’s so still. He sits cross-legged on the ground surrounded by bronze textbooks open to bronze blank pages like they’d really been created by an artist who didn’t care enough to put writing in them. He has his chin in one hand with his elbows on his knees. His other hand seems to be in the middle of wiggling his pen in irritation. A little bronze plaque read _‘The capacity to learn is a gift. The ability to learn is a skill. The willingness to learn is a choice.’_ The strangest thing is the perfect circle of bronze fabric around him. Derek debates for a moment what it could be when the fabric moves, rising into a circular curtain around the man on the floor, completely obscuring him from even the tallest in the crowd.

It falls quicker than it had risen and behind it stands the man, the textbooks and pen nowhere in sight. He’s got a flower extended in one hand, and the other halfway through his hair in a bashful kind of look. His grin is wide, playful, and mischievous. Derek follows his eyes to a teenage girl wearing a bright blue sundress. She’s reading the plaque. When she finally looks up to meet the performer’s eyes, she blushes. She runs away after getting her friend to take a picture of him, her, and the plaque.

Derek focuses on the slab, finding it changed _‘I’m not flirting. I’m just being friendly to someone who is extra attractive.’_ Derek rolls his eyes. Lots of people follow the girl’s example and take pictures of the statue man staring at them flirtatiously and offering them a flower.

Laura leans over, “Would you be more likely to take my picture or take a picture with him?” Derek just scowls. Laura sighs. “Fine.” Without warning, she shoves Derek into the place where people had been posing. He glares at her and then his pack who are snickering behind Laura. “Smile!” Derek frowns harder, turning his glare on the statue man. He’s still grinning annoyingly. It’s only this close that Derek realized how attractive the man was. He’d noted the lean build and long fingers, but behind the bronze, paint is a bright, expressive face and a rather pretty mouth. His glare might fade a little.

The curtain rises again. Derek gives his pack the finger and starts to return to them when two things happen. Something shoves him hard, forcing him to fall (which is difficult to force, him being a werewolf and all), and the curtain falls just as he would have hit it.

The guy is on the ground again, expression full of surprise and amused pleasure. He’s propped up on his elbows, and his legs are splayed out like he’d been pushed onto his back. Derek’s hands are on either side of him, one knee between the man’s legs, barely brushing fabric. Their faces are inches apart. Derek just sits there for a moment thinking _he smells really good,_ and _what the hell just happened,_ and _I probably shouldn’t kiss him_.

Another thought occurs to him moments too late. He looks up at his pack just to have Laura’s phone flash in his face. “Baby brother, this is going on the fridge.”

Glower back in place he gets up. He sees the plaque as he stalks toward Laura and the others, Cora is still laughing. It reads; _‘I didn’t fall in love. It ran me over.’_

He glares back at the performer. He has a teenage boy on top of him, posing for a picture. Derek feels a sharp twinge of jealousy. Which is ridiculous. An attractive body should not turn Derek into a possessive child.

After another thirty minutes, the curtain rises and stays up. The plaque is pushed outside. _‘Thank you for your participation!’_ The crowd claps and whistles. They wait until the crowd disperses. It’s nearly an hour later the curtain drops again, revealing the same man but flesh coloured. He has moles all over his skin like sharply contrasting polka dots. It’s strangely pleasing to look at after the impersonal paint.

“Hey, Erica!” He steps forward to hug her and rubs her cheek on his. “Glad to see your fitting into that pack I told you about.” Laura’s eyebrows go up. Derek shares a glance with her. Finally, they’re meeting the mysterious friend.

“You already know how I’m fitting in. We have lunch once a week.” Derek gets the impression she’s rolling her eyes. “If you wanted me to introduce you could just ask, you don’t have to blackmail me.” Is he blushing? It’s strangely hot. Erica turns to them. “Stiles Stilinski meet my pack. Laura, my Alpha, Cora, Isaac, Scott, Lydia and Derek.” Stiles’ eyes linger on Lydia (understandable) before meeting his own. He grins and winks. Derek feels his face heat.

“Sorry for tripping you earlier,” he says, unapologetically. His eyes are still on Derek, but he shifts, so he’s talking to Laura, “What can I do for you?”

Laura sounds like she’s containing laughter, “We have a pest problem. Pixies.”

Stiles makes an ‘ick’ face finally focusing on the Alpha. His gaze leaves Derek like a weight. “Wait like pixies or pigsies?” He pauses and seems to think about it. He makes an ickier face. “Or piskies?”

Everyone turned to Lydia. She arches her perfectly groomed eyebrows. “Pixies. If they were piskies I would have just gotten the hawthorn, ivy, and cayenne,” she smirks, “And the flamethrower. To hurry things along.” Stiles looks a little dazed, as though he stared into the sun for too long.

“I think I love you.” He glances at Derek, “In a strictly platonic, please have my genius babies one day so they can take over the world in all their strawberry haired glory way.”

Lydia’s smirk grew into a terrifying leer. “Sorry, I don’t do surrogate.”

Stiles laughs, “Noted, but don’t think I won’t beg. On several occasions.” Stiles turns from her to Laura. “Sure, I’ll get rid of your pixie problem.”

They head back to the apartment, Stiles chattering all the way. Derek would say its nerves, but he doesn’t smell nervous. If anything, he smells excited. Derek keeps catching Stiles looking at him. Not because he is looking at Stiles. Just because he happens to be looking in his general direction. A lot. He isn’t looking.

When they finally get back to the Pack’s apartment building, they find Luke sitting in the hallway looking dishevelled and a little bruised. He looks up with a look of idle confusion and fright. “Honey, did you know there are evil flying things in our apartment?”

Laura helps him up, “Sorry babe, I forgot to text you. You okay?”

Luke pouts, “They took my briefcase. And my vase is smashed,” His eyes find Stiles, “Do I know you?”

Stiles grins like a kid who knows he’s been caught but who also knows he won’t be punished, “I might have grabbed you at one point, it’s hard to remember everyone.” He slides a smirk Derek’s way. “Though some are hard to forget.” Laura appears torn between possessive anger over her husband, and hilarity at her brother’s expense. Stiles speaks to her next. “So, this will take several hours. If you want you guys can stick around but don’t come in until I’m done. Nothing dangerous, but it’d distract me and take longer.”

“How do you know what you’re doing?” It’s obvious Isaac is still suspicious of Stiles; he always takes the longest to warm up to strangers. Other than Derek, that is. Laura says Derek never warms up to strangers.

“I teach Mythology and Ancient Religious Practices at NYU,” Stiles says. Lydia looks mildly impressed. He adds, “I perform for fun. I don’t collect money.” It occurs to Derek that there had been no hat or tin or case for pedestrians to put cash in back at Bethesda Fountain. “Anyway! Better get to it.” Stiles rubs his hands together and shoots them all a grin, winking yet again at Derek. He faces the door. He has the door open and closed before any pixies can come shooting out.

After fifteen minutes, everyone but Luke, Laura, and Derek go to their apartments. Luke and Laura decide to go to Derek’s after another fifteen. Derek prepares to wait for the next few hours.

Derek isn’t sure why he stayed. Part of it is because there’s a relative stranger in his Alpha’s territory – in his territory. Stiles gave them Erica and Erica vouches for him, but he’s still a stranger. But Stiles doesn’t give off that vibe Derek has come to recognize. After Kate. After Jennifer’s flirtations. It’s something between the way they smelled and spoke, the way they moved and held themselves. They were like predators. Stiles doesn’t remind him of them. Except that Derek finds him attractive. It seems almost too good to be true. If Derek is telling the truth, he stayed because Stiles is a stranger and because he likes Stiles’ uncomplicated flirting. His simple attraction. It’s refreshing.

Stiles finally comes out only forty minutes after he went in looking dishevelled, flushed, and little twitchy. Derek is about to ask if he can’t do it or maybe why he’s done so quickly. Instead, Stiles says, “Oh, good, you stayed.” And suddenly Derek has a mouthful of Stiles.

Stiles tastes like electricity, Wendy’s curly fries, and that flavour that only skin has. Like warm living softness. Derek matches his movements without thinking. He didn’t notice before that Stiles is almost as tall as he is. Going on his toes gives Stiles that extra inch to take Derek’s bottom lip and bite. Derek growls and swings them around, shoving Stiles hard against the wall opposite Laura’s apartment.

“Hells yes.” Stiles groans as they separate for a split second. Stiles also takes the opportunity to clutch Derek’s shoulders and hook his ankles around his waist. They collide again, teeth hitting in their haste. Derek mouths a line from Stiles’ lips down his jaw and bites down on the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Stiles bucks helplessly and whimpers, “Oh my gods. Thank you for magic side-effects.”

It’s partly Stiles’ comment, and partly the footfalls coming down the stairs that make Derek swing around again to put Stiles down. He sags against Laura’s door looking all at once miffed and pleased. His cheek and neck are red from Derek’s beard, and something in Derek settles at that. He’s always liked laying claim on things. Old Mrs Romero descends the steps and nods to them both before she continues down.

Stiles runs a hand through his hair as he heaves another breath, looking up at Derek through dark lashes. “Wanna go again?” He looks absolutely wrecked.

Derek hoists him up so his legs can lock around his waist again and strides through Laura’s apartment into her spare bedroom.

\---

Hours later, Derek is lying on his side facing Stiles. He looks thoroughly fucked. They both do. Which makes him preen a little bit, glancing over the bruises he’s made on Stiles’ thighs, arms... his ass.

Stiles rolls over to look at him, hair going in every direction. “So, uh…” Derek raises an eyebrow, “I was wondering…” He trails off again, and Derek lets his eyes wander around to the red and purple marks covering Stiles’ neck and shoulder. Stiles clears his throat, and Derek lifts his gaze. He looks nervous. “Do you wanna go on a date?”

He can’t help it. Derek laughs. He scoots closer to Stiles, who is frowning angrily, he wraps an arm around him as Stiles tries to move away. “So, usually I can tell when a person is a complete asshole – call it a sixth sense – but you totally just blindsided me. Get off! You dickhead, I said get off!” He shoves uselessly at Derek's arms. Derek wonders why he doesn’t use his magic.

Derek tries to stop laughing, but it really is funny. He’s so nervous about asking him out on a _date_. After what they just finished doing?

“Yes.”

“Yes, you’re a dickhead? Great. Glad we agree–” Stiles is still trying to get away from him and roll off the bed. Probably to get the clothes they’d shed in a hurry.

“Yes, I want to go on a date.”

Stiles just stares. Derek raises an eyebrow again. “With me?”

Didn’t he just say that? “Yes.”

“Oh.” Stiles is surprised for a moment before he pokes Derek in the ribs. “No sex on the first date. I’m not easy.”

The eyebrow already up wiggles as if making a point. Derek looks around the room at their discarded clothing and rather naked, marked state. Stiles glowers. “You’re a hell of a lot more vocal while you’re fucking me.” Derek smiles winningly.

Later, when they’re getting dressed, because they can’t stay in Laura’s guest bedroom forever, Derek asks, “If you’re not easy, what was this?”

Stiles looks sheepish. “Would you believe me if I said it was celebratory sex for your sister getting a pixie-free apartment?” Derek’s eyebrow makes another pilgrimage northward. “Okie dokie then.” Stiles sighs, sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed. “I don’t use magic very often – except, you know when I’m performing – because I don’t need it. I don’t need it… and, being a spark, it comes with side effects.”

“Side effects.” Derek sits down next to him so their thighs are pressing together simply because he can, and because it’s been a long time since he’s just touched another person that wasn’t in his Pack without it leading to sex.

Stiles shoots him a glare, “You’re question marks have a habit of disappearing. Anyway, side effects usually include an excess of physical energy. Like, I’ve spent so much time working out one part of myself the other part gets restless, you know?”

It’s silent for a moment which, Derek realized sometime during the past few hours, is hard for Stiles. Derek mulls it over then speaks slowly. “So you’re saying… you get horny after you use magic. Like we do after a run on the full moon.”

Stiles’ eyes glaze over a bit. “Okay, so I was trying to come up with something that didn’t make me sound like a teenager, but then you said that bit about the full moon and I’m honestly excited for next month.”

Derek kisses him hard enough to have Stiles breathing heavily when they’re done. He gets up and puts on his pants. He steps into the living room without looking back. “Don’t get carried away, we haven’t even been on our first date.”

He hears Stiles mutter, “If we do this before every date, I’ll probably be moving in within the year.”

Derek feels a warmth blossom in his belly. The soft trembling feeling Laura and Scott always talk about. He grins and thinks back to when they first came here. They’d started with three. And then they were eleven (almost twelve). They’ll be thirteen by winter if he has anything to say about it.

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO PARTICIPATED IN MY SURVEY!
> 
> This was basically an indulgence for me, it was fun to write but prob not my best work. Anyway, I've got the same name on tumblr! Find me if you dare!
> 
> Leave a comment on your way out and may you find many happy OTPs and AUs!


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